Spring at the monastery

Flowers were blooming at the monastery, especially in sheltered corners. The breeze was chilly, and the air cold in the shadows, but on Saturday afternoon, I found a corner of stone where I could sit on the ground with my back against an old stone building, out of the wind. The stones radiated heat. I coiled myself into the spot and sat absolutely still, sinking into the silence. The heat soaked into my cold feet, my hands, the bare skin of my arms until my entire body was warmed through and through.